Chapter 48: A Message From The Future?
My body shivered as I hobbled out of the building, my dad holding the door open for me.
The evening air was crisp and cool, just like always. The starless sky was covered with pale, fluffy clouds, which somehow managed to clear my mind and lift my spirits.
"Take your time, buddy. Do you need a hand?" My dad's concern was evident as he walked over, a small white plastic bag in his hand.
"Nah, I've got this, Dad." I flashed him a reassuring smile, and he nodded, though he didn't seem entirely convinced. He adjusted his pace to match my slow, limping steps as we made our way to his car.
After the doctors had shown my dad how to properly treat and bandage my wounds, and given him the prescribed medication, they finally released me. Honestly, staying there might have been a better option; walking was a real pain in the rear.
My legs throbbed from the cuts and bruises, and every step sent a jolt of pain through them. My upper body wasn't in much better shape. In my current state, I doubted I could even lift my school bag. That jerk had really messed me up...
"Xander, wait!" Just as we reached my dad's car, a familiar voice called my name.
I paused and turned my head weakly, raising an eyebrow when I saw Peter Petrelli approaching in his outfit.
My dad, now suspicious, asked, "Do you know this guy?" as he inserted the car key into the door.
"Yeah, Dad, can you give me a minute to talk to him?" I turned to him with a hopeful smile.
"Alright, but just a minute," he agreed reluctantly. "We need to get home and get you some food with that medicine."
Suppressing a grimace at the thought of more of those awful drugs, I turned to face Peter as he drew closer, a faint smile on his face.
"Hey, Peter, what's up?" I called out casually, noting the paleness of his face. "No offense, but you look like hell." I tried to make light of the situation, and he chuckled softly, though his voice sounded strained.
"You don't look so hot yourself," he retorted playfully.
"Ouch, but you're not wrong. Don't worry, in no time, I'll be back to my normal, handsome self," I quipped with a wince, nodding with mock arrogance.
He laughed, shaking his head. "I don't doubt it." The conversation tapered off, both of us hesitating.
After an awkward silence, Peter sighed deeply, a wry smile on his lips.
"I know it's strange, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't apologize for what happened yesterday," Peter admitted quietly, his apologetic gaze locked onto mine as he scratched his head. "So sorry, Xander... that's all I want to say."
My eyes widened, my head tilting slightly in confusion. This was unexpected.
"Uh, okay. But why are you apologizing?" I asked curiously. "It's not like you had anything to do with it, so why the apology?"
"Well, there's this pain... basically, I kind of knew you'd be attacked," he confessed with a hollow laugh. "It was my duty to protect you from him, and I failed miserably. Turns out, I was the one who needed saving after all." He smiled self-deprecatingly, avoiding my gaze.
Upon hearing this explanation, I facepalmed audibly, shaking my head with a wry smile.
The Hero complex in Peter was off the charts, like seriously over-the-top. Apologizing for something like this? It just didn't make sense.
When had it become his duty to save me? In fact, when had it become anyone's duty? Heroes...thank goodness I wasn't one of them.
Risking my life to save a stranger was something I couldn't do wholeheartedly. Sure, for family and friends, I'd go to great lengths, but for someone whose name I didn't even know? No way.
It wasn't my fault; it was just how I was and how I'd been brought up.
...But I guess that's what made them special, their selflessness. It drew people in, made them feel safe and protected. It made them admirable.
Peter had always been my favorite character on the show, and now, standing face to face with him, I finally understood why. He was someone I could never be.
"Peter, I hate to break it to you, but no one is your responsibility, especially not a stranger like me," I said as I removed my hand from my face and spoke thoughtfully, offering a reassuring smile as he watched me. "It's not your fault what happened to me, and it never will be, so don't beat yourself up over it, okay?"
He started to retort but then paused, shaking his head with a wry smile. "I know. It's just... hard to forget."
He paused for a moment, then continued, his eyes roaming my body. "Anyway, it's good to see you're recovering. You're tough, and for a teenager, you really know how to handle yourself. You're something special."
I thanked him but then sighed helplessly. "Thanks, but I still got my ass handed to me, so I've got a lot to learn." I smiled, then added, "But hey, you're not too shabby yourself. You know, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have had a chance to fight back. So, thanks. You really helped yesterday, even if you don't believe it."
I stepped closer to him and gave his shoulder a gentle pat. He chuckled, a bit derisively, but his smile widened. "If getting skewered by glass shards and coming back to life counts as helping, then I guess you're welcome."
I laughed along with his dark humor.
"So, you have powers, huh?" He asked awkwardly, rhetorically, after a brief pause. I raised an eyebrow, smirking.
Here it was, the question I'd been expecting. I wondered how long it would take him to ask. Fortunately, he took the direct approach.
"Obviously, and apparently, so do you," I replied with a grin. "It was pretty cool seeing you rise from the dead like a zombie, by the way. Classic."
He admitted, "I didn't even know I could do that. I'm just as surprised as you are."
"So, how long have you known about your powers? I've only had mine for a couple of weeks," he asked.
"Same here," I calmly replied, causing his eyes to nearly pop out.
"That's... wow," he managed to say, clearly shocked. "You've had your powers for the same amount of time as me, but you're way more skilled. I'm still struggling to figure mine out. That's amazing."
"Thanks, but to be fair, our situations are pretty different," I explained, shaking my head with a knowing smile.
"How so?" He prodded with childlike curiosity, looking at me as if I were some kind of seasoned expert.
It was a bit strange, almost unsettling, having a thirty-something-year-old man look at me like this, but given the circumstances, I brushed off the unease and mustered a small smile.
"Well, as you've probably noticed by now, you tend to copy or assimilate the abilities of other superpowered individuals, right?"
"Yeah, exactly. Wait, how do you know that?"
"Just observant," I shrugged, smiling mysteriously. "Plus, that healing ability you have, it's not exactly original. It's from Claire."
"I knew there was something special about her, but I didn't think she was like... us. I guess special attracts special," he mused, holding his chin in thought, nodding in understanding.
"Regarding your power, it's the fact that you copy the abilities of others that makes it hard to control," I explained patiently. "Because you have such a variety to choose from, your mind struggles to decide which ones to use. Plus, the fact that you sometimes unknowingly copy abilities makes it even harder, as you don't even know what powers you have."
He nodded, absorbing the information. Then, he had an epiphany. "My emotions! That's it!" He exclaimed excitedly. "Every time I fly in my dreams, it's because I feel that sense of familiarity, like I'm with my brother in the sky.
"And the same thing with Isaac, just thinking about him and Simone, that feeling of jeal... made me blank, and before I knew it, I had finished his painting. Thank you, Xander! You've just solved my biggest problem. I owe you one now."
Unexpectedly, he pulled me into a hug, which sent a pang of discomfort through my body.
"Ouch, ouch, okay, that's enough, big guy," I grimaced, pulling away as the ache nearly turned into stinging pain.
"Sorry, I got a bit carried away there. I hope I didn't hurt you too much?" He apologized, smiling awkwardly as the discomfort faded.
"Forget about it. It's nothing. Just a little warning time, okay?" I waved it off and suggested with a strained smile.
A crushing hug was a small price to pay to get a future overpowered hero into my books. If we could be friends, that would be even better.
Plus, maybe with my advise, the chances of him going nuclear on New York or anywhere at all, due to my actions derailing the plot would decrease or become nil altogether.
"Yeah, of course," he agreed with an apologetic smile.
"Small advice though, try not to use my power if you it all works out," I suggested calmly. "It nearly killed you yesterday with the nosebleeds and all."
"Wait, that was your power!?" He asked, his eyes widened in horror.
"Yeah, so try not to think of me anytime soon." I chuckled with a smirk and he nodded vigorously in agreement.
Since the moment I discovered my power, I'd always been anxious as to how Peter would react to it. I knew it was only a matter of time before I met him, so delude myself otherwise.
My only prayer then was that, somehow, my power would be too unique for him to copy. It was kinda a stretch, I know, but I just hoped it would happen.
After all, I was really attached to my power and whether I admitted it or not, my pride would be wounded if I saw him flashing the one thing that personally made me unique in my new life.
So, as bad as it was, I was kinda relieved deep down, when he went through that much pain just by coping it.
It showed, that no matter what, even if my power got stolen or copied, no one would be able to utilize it like the way I was or would in the future.
And frankly, this set my mind at ease because if there was a chance, I'd have to face Peter one day or...his father in the future, I wouldn't be defenseless.
No matter the circumstance, I would always have an ace up my sleeve and that was absolutely perfect...
Just then, my dad honked the car horn twice, and the headlights flashed like lasers at us.
"Well, that's my cue. I better get going," I glanced at the car and said. "I guess I'll see you again, Peter. Goodbye, and have a safe trip home." I nodded at him and turned to walk away.
"Wait, before I forget, there's something I have to tell you," He said hurriedly, bringing me to a halt. "There's a message for you. From five years into the future." I turned back to face him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
A message from the future? Was it Hiro? Or... was it from my future self? Regardless, if it was important enough to be delivered through time travel, I had to know.
My father honked the car horn again, this time more loudly, drawing attention as he leaned out of the rolled-down window.
"Excuse me, sir, but my son needs to be home soon. Can you please excuse him?" My dad politely requested, his tone tinged with a touch of firmness.
"Give me a sec, Dad! We're almost done," I called back, clicking my tongue in annoyance.
My dad mouthed something and then withdrew his head into the car, and I turned my attention back to Peter, who had a wry smile on his face.
"Can I give you my number, so we can talk about
this later?" I asked politely.
"Of course," he agreed, a bit hurriedly, and pulled out his black flip phone from his pocket. "Here, go ahead." He extended it to me.
"Thanks," I mouthed as I quickly entered my number and name into his phone before handing it back. Then, I turned to leave, waving over my shoulder, "Goodbye, Peter. We'll talk later."
He gave a reply as I reached the car, carefully lowering myself into the front passenger seat as my dad opened the door for me.
With a loud bang, I closed the door, and my dad immediately started the car. As the vehicle pulled out of the hospital parking lot and onto the busy road, I saw Peter making a phone call. Soon, the car was merging with the flow of traffic.
"That man, is he a friend of yours or something?" My dad asked skeptically as I silently gazed at the bustling highway, cars with blinking lights streaming by.
"Something like that. We met during the attack. He's the other guy who was also attacked," I replied, turning my eyes toward my dad and nodding.
"Oh, I see. That explains it," My dad muttered thoughtfully, choosing not to delve deeper into the topic.
My gaze returned to the passing cars, and slowly but surely, my thoughts drifted away.
...What was so important that Hiro had come back in time to tell Peter? Was it related to the whole 'Save the cheerleader, save the world' thing?
No, it couldn't be, because that message would've been meant for Claire, not me. So, what did Hiro want me to know or do? Had I somehow messed up? Had the future changed for the better or worse?
...In any case, whatever it was, I'd find out soon enough...
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